


Be Here

by sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-War, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Women in the Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances
Summary: Post-War. On the train home, Joe finds a familiar face.
Relationships: Joseph Liebgott/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	Be Here

Joe itches in his uniform. His class A’s are starched to within an inch of their lives, and he feels trapped, trapped in memories he doesn’t want to think about anymore, trapped in between two worlds.

In uniform, he’s still a paratrooper. On this train, headed home, he just feels like Joe. He doesn’t like this feeling - doesn’t know how to respond when someone comes up to shake his hand, or some overeager teen asks him if he killed any Germans.

He can’t wait to be in civilian clothes.

He needs the separation - needs to figure out who he is now. He’s already decided that even though he misses his friends like lost limbs, he can’t— he can’t see them for awhile. He’s already planned to make himself scarce.

A commotion at the back of the train car startles him.

“I think she’s dreaming,” someone says.

A muffled scream has his heart pounding, and he’s on his feet before he can tell himself it’s none of his business.

He recognizes her immediately. How didn’t he realize they were on the same train? Why didn’t she say anything to him? 

“Move,” he says gruffly to the man and woman who are debating about waking her, pushing his way through the crowd until he can crouch next to her.

Her uniform is wrinkled - she must have been asleep for awhile.

Leaning in, his hand finds the side of her face almost without his permission - the easy affection between him and everyone he served with coming as second nature even now.

Her eyes fly open at his touch.

“Hey, hey. Calm down,” he shushes, watching as recognition lights her wild eyes. “It’s a nightmare. You’re safe.”

Aware of prying eyes, he shifts so she can focus on him and only him.

“Christ,” she curses, shifting so she can sit up. “Lieb?”

“Should I be offended that you knew I was here the whole time but sat over here by yourself?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes. She shrugs.

He sighs. “Come on.” He pulls her to her feet, grabbing her back from the rack above her head. Dodging curious eyes, he keeps a tight grip on her hand and tugs her towards his seat.

Once they’re settled, he takes her in. The hair at her temples is curling slightly from sweat, and he has to blink away the image of her the last time he saw her nervous like this, dirty and bloody.

“Didn’t think you’d want my company.” She says bluntly.

He rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would you think—“

“Come on, Joe—“

He leans forward, suddenly furious. “I would have taken a bullet for you,” he hisses. “I would and _have_ killed for you.”

He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to think about this. This is what he was trying to avoid. The war is over. It’s over and he wants to get far away from anything to do with rules, regulations, and people who would just be a reminder of every awful, horrible thing he’s done and seen in the last two years.

She blinks rapidly, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She says, voice hoarse.

He groans, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t— _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t mean…” he trails off, frustrated. He doesn’t know how to do this anymore.

He’s forgotten how to be just a man, talking to a woman, instead of a soldier talking to a comrade that saved his life more than once, and for whom he shot a man at close range who didn’t give a shit about the Red Cross on her bicep.

“You didn’t say goodbye.” She accuses, suddenly. He looks up to see hurt on her face. “To any of us.” 

“You’re right here.” He says, combative, though he knows it’s not what she means.

“Don’t be stupid.” Her eyes are like embers. “New York could have been the last time we were all together, and you just–” She stops abruptly, biting her tongue and looking out the window. 

They’re somewhere near Chicago by now, Joe guesses. He’s got several days ahead of him before he gets to California. He hates himself for wondering where she’s going, for being curious about how long she was going to be here with him. 

“I don’t like goodbyes.” He mutters. 

He’s not completely heartless - he feels some regret and guilt about it. He barely had the strength to get off the ship, let alone board a train without saying goodbye. But he couldn’t do it. It was too much - he needed to be alone, he needed…. well, he supposes that plan has all gone to shit. Though it’s different with her, really. 

It always has been.

They spend the next few minutes in silence. He has no idea what to say to her, now. It seems like she feels the same way, but he thinks if she keeps looking at him but not saying what’s on her mind, he might scream. 

“What?” He finally blurts. 

“Nothing.” 

“Something.” 

She huffs, shifting her weight. “Where are you headed?” 

“Back to Oakland, I guess.” 

“You want some company?” 

He nearly gives himself whiplash with how fast he looks up at her. “What are you talking about?” 

She shrugs, picking at her nails with her free hand. “I’ve always wanted to go to California.” 

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you telling me that you– got on this train without having any idea what you’re going to do when you get there? Why aren’t you going home?” 

She scoffs. “Did you forget that I was disowned the minute I joined the Army?” 

He’s still staring at her, trying to figure out why the hell she thought this was a good idea. It makes him irritated - she’s always so reckless. Throwing herself in front of people at the first sign of trouble, smiling and acting like everything was dandy even when they were knee deep in the shit.

“Look, I’ll just get a cab when I get there and figure it out. Always wanted to see San Francisco.” 

“Now you’re just _trying_ to offend me,” he says, muttering under his breath as he puts his feet up on the seat next to her, across from him. “Going to a strange city alone, going to get a _cab_ –” 

She laughs. “God, Liebgott. Jesus. You sound like my mother.”

He feels his cheeks heat up, and he glares at her, though the sight of her smile softens his irritation a little bit. 

They spend some more time in silence, and then he must fall asleep, because the next thing he knows, he’s being roused by the train slowing, his body jerking to awareness at the change in speed. He’ll be happy when he can convince himself he doesn’t need to practically sleep with one eye open anymore.

She’s asleep, too. Peacefully, this time. 

He watches her - unable to help himself. He’s never seen her so relaxed. She almost looks like a completely different person. He gives himself exactly one minute to think about what it would have been like to have met her before – he usually buries these thoughts down, down, down, because what would be the point? 

He was not the type of person that could provide anything for her. For anyone. He’s come to terms with that. He had his plan - find a nice Jewish girl from his neighborhood and settle down. Drive his cab. Never spend another second thinking about Toccoa, or Easy, or Sobel… Bastogne or Austria. Any of it. 

_Easier said than done_ , his conscious reminds him. 

She stirs. 

Her eyes open, and blearily, her gaze goes right to him. _This_ is familiar. The way she always checked on everyone else the second she woke up, no matter what or how she was feeling. 

“You don’t have to do that anymore,” he says quietly. Her brows furrow. “Check on me.” He adds.

She blinks rapidly, frowning even more. “I know that.” She says, her voice just as quiet, but fierce. 

And oh, _oh_ , that’s the whole thing, Joe realizes. He watches her as her jaw works, and he thinks maybe she’s trying not to cry. Shit. “I didn’t mean…” he leans forward, again touching her without thinking, his hand landing heavy on her knee. 

She groans, “God, I hate this.” She sniffs. “I’m– I’m happy, _god_ , of course I am. Not having to sleep on the ground every night, no more shelling… no more having to…” she trails off, a choked off sob now, and Joe, for all his bluster, is physically unable to sit still. His free hand curls into a fist at his side, and he squeezes her knee. “… no more having to watch people I love die.” 

He feels her words like a punch in the face. 

“But what am I if I’m not with Easy? With you?” Her eyes land on his, and she’s pleading with him, asking _him_ what she’s supposed to do now, and he has no idea what to say. He feels like his heart is cracking in half. She’s always put all of them back together, and now she’s asking him to do it for her.

He exhales, finally moving to the seat next to her, tugging her into his arms before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. 

It makes her cry harder. 

There’s a few curious eyes on them now, but propriety be damned, he can’t just _sit here_ and watch her fall apart. 

He wonders if this is the first time she’s allowed herself to cry since… since everything. She never let herself show any weakness in front of them, even at the beginning, at Toccoa, when her life was a living hell. 

“I’m sorry,” she’s babbling, trying to push him away. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” She takes a huge breath, “God, what a mess.” 

He leans away, tries to let her get her bearings, tries to figure out why it feels like his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest and find its way to her, but he thinks deep down he knows. He’s always known. 

.

.

They stick together for the next few days. 

She forces him to get off the train at a couple stops and take in the sights, and he pretends he’s annoyed with the whole thing, when in reality, he’s just happy that she seems like she’s getting back to herself. 

He’s also realizing that he was an idiot to think that he could just go home and forget her. 

The Bay is more blue than he remembers. Or maybe it’s just seeing it again after such a long time, after a time when he wasn’t sure he would see it again, ever.

He wants to remember the look on her face when she sees the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time. “You want me to leave you here? Need a minute alone with the old girl?” 

She rolls her eyes. “Leave me alone.” 

_Not happening_ , he thinks, but doesn’t say it. 

They lean against the railing for awhile, the ocean breeze refreshing. He’s still itching to get out of his uniform, but he feels… content? He never thought he’d say that again. 

When he glances over, she’s already looking at him. He feels like he should say something, but the words are heavy in his mouth. He takes her hand, instead, relieved when she grips him back immediately, tight.

He still feels like he’s living in between two worlds, two versions of himself. As he stands here, soaking in the sun, her hand in his, he thinks if this new version of himself includes a new version of her too, he might be able to stomach it. 

He might be able to survive whatever’s next, if she’s there to piece him back together, like she’s always been. He hopes he can return the favor. He hopes she lets him, whenever he can figure out how to put into words what he’s feeling. 

As if she’s reading his mind, she leans closer, shoulder bumping his. “We don’t have to figure it out right now, Lieb.” She sighs, watching the waves. “We can just– _be here_. For now.” 

Something settles in his chest. A puzzle piece clicking into place. 

Be here now. Good advice, he thinks, meeting her eyes, a soft look in them that sets his heart racing.

_Be here now._

**Author's Note:**

> This is very obviously not what happened when Liebgott came home from war - the only sort of truth being that he did very intentionally distance himself from Easy and tried to separate his life from his War experience (according to his family). Certainly a choice I think a lot of men (and women) would have made if they weren’t sure what to do next. I hope I conveyed the angst of that choice - leaving behind people who had become like family but also leaving behind the memories (good and bad) that came with them. I know my own Grandpa talked about how hard it was to leave his buddies behind when they came back, but also how hard it was to see some of them again. A true struggle. Anyway. Hope you liked this angsty little piece.


End file.
